Aku no Hetalia
by Cold War Takeover
Summary: Matthew is an evil princess, Alfred is his faithful servant, Francis is his private advisor, and Arthur is their rival. How more epic can you get?  Based on the Aku no Series by the Vocaloids, NOT a song fic  AmericaXEngland
1. Aku no Musume

**Woah jebus. How did I get the idea for this, you may be asking. Well, to put it simply, I always loved the Aku no Series by the Vocaloids (respectively, Rin and Len.) And I was thinking about writing the Aku no Series as two books (like, published and everything) and then I got all paranoid about copyrights and stuff. And then I thought, oh, if only the real world were like where you could slap on a disclaimer…**

**^^ These chapters are going to be extremely long, I'll have you know. Like, 3,500 words each. I'm surs. *nods* (That's how I say 'serious'. Surs. LOL) Now, before any of you Mattie fans out there get all flamey on me, I'll have you know that I think evil!Matthew would make a lovely Rin. XD (Isn't it fitting how Rin and Len are blonde and "twins" –I know they aren't really twins, but in the songs they are—and the same could be said for Alfred and Mattie?)**

**So, now, the characters and their vocaloid counterparts! Len = Alfred, Rin = Mattie, Miku = Arthur (you'll see why I chose him if you happen to look at the English lyrics for Servant of Evil), Meiko = Ivan, Kaito = Vash, Luka = Francis (yes, Luka appears in a video for one of the songs), and the "voice" from Re_Birthday = Lilli. ^^ So, now that that is done, shalt not we beginth?**

**(R&R and enjoy! The Aku no Series belongs to whoever made the songs, Axis Powers Hetalia belongs to Hide—however you spell it, and this story belongs to me!)**

_**Daughter of Evil/Aku no Musume**_

"_Once upon a time, there was a beautiful kingdom—"_

"Oh, that's boring. Why does everything have to be 'beautiful' and '_magnefique_' and—"

Matthew scrunched up his nose. He'd never understand fairy tales.

"How would you prefer it then, Your Majesty?" Alfred, Prince Matthew's most prized servant, asked.

Matthew snickered. "You don't have to toss in the title, you know."

Alfred shrugged. Matthew had been telling him that for ages, since the two were obviously twins.

"Why can't it be…_treacherous_?"

"_Once upon a time, there was a treacherous kingdom. And reigning at the top was a prince of nineteen._" Alfred tried his best. If Matthew didn't like fairy tales so much, why was he always asking Alfred to make one up for him?

Matthew smiled, the smugness lurking in his eyes. Oh how wonderful it felt to hear his servant tell him a tale that made Matthew sound more magnificent.

As Alfred began spinning the tale, telling of how the castle the prince lived in was better than all the rest in the world and how no one could question the prince's power, there was quite a scuffle going on in the front-most doors of the castle.

"YOU HAVE TO, LIKE, LET US IN!" Feliks screeched, banging his fists on the armor of the guard.

"Feliks! Please, we can come back later!" Toris pleaded, staring nervously at the anger growing on the Spanish guard's face.

"Hell no!" Feliks yelled angrily, kicking at the palace doors. "It's, like, totally unfair how _Prince_ _Matthew_," he said the name with obvious sarcasm, "knows that the kingdom is, like, falling poor. And what does he do? He totally raises the taxes!" Feliks began trying to punch the guard in the face.

Toris squeaked. It had to be against the law to talk like that when it came to the Prince. Couldn't Feliks save his complaints for when they got home (and away from anyone on the side of the Prince)?

Alfred paused in the midst of his words. He could've sworn he heard a—

There it was again, this time louder. Someone was banging on armor, or else a cooking pot.

Even the Prince heard the noise as the metallic clang echoed through the castle.

Matthew sighed in anger. "Not another one. I am _sick and tired _of all these complaints. Aren't you, Alfred?"

Alfred opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by the Prince. "Of course you are. I suppose we should go check on the guard…"

Alfred obediently fell in place behind Matthew as he strode confidently through the palace. In just about five minutes, they were at the palace doors, the noises and shouts from outside legible now.

"_All he does is, like, sit up on the throne like he's all high and mighty while us commoners are totally stuck scrounging for food—" _Alfred faintly recognized the voice. He had probably heard the speaker while traveling with the Prince through the kingdom.

Alfred quickly opened the door for the Prince, who stepped forward, now standing next to the guard. "Oh, how nice of you to compliment me!" Matthew declared, grinning at the blonde.

Toris stared at the Prince in shock, and Feliks shut his mouth. Oh no. Oh _hell _no—

"Antonio?" Matthew asked, turning to the guard. The guard stared above the Prince's head. (No one was allowed to look him in the eye unless they happened to be a hand-servant or a cabinet minister.)

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Takes these two to the prison tower. Lock them up until I decide otherwise." (Read: Leave them there forever.) Antonio nodded and grabbed the two commoners, then left to go find said tower.

Toris burst into tears, while Feliks screamed in anger and tried to pry the guard's fingers off of his arm.

Alfred blinked. Now he remembered why he had recognized the voice. Because he had made friends with those two one time during a trip to the market.

Of course he had only gone to the market because the current chef was on trial for attempting to poison the Prince.

Alfred sighed and shut the doors behind him when the Prince had returned inside. Alfred didn't understand why everyone was so against Matthew. Sure, he could be extremely cruel and had a bad habit of sentencing people to death, but that shouldn't be considered too mean.

Alfred knew in his heart that if everyone would look hard enough, they'd be sure to find someone who was just as bad, and maybe worse.

_Maybe then they'll leave my brother alone…_

Matthew wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Stupid roses. Why the hell do you allow such disgusting things to grow, eh?" Matthew asked the gardener when he caught sight of the poor girl.

Lilli wondered where her brother was. Onee-san always knew how to properly talk to the Prince without getting sentenced to death.

Lilli trembled and stared at the Prince's feet, too scared to look anywhere else. "I-I-I didn't chose to plant them, Y-Your-Your Majest-sty."

Matthew raised an eyebrow. The girl's quivering was annoying. "And who chose to plant them, then?"

Lilli had no idea. She assumed it was probably a past gardener. "I-I don't kn-know."

Matthew hmphed, then turned to Antonio, who was told to follow the Prince in Alfred's absence.

"Antonio, take Lilli to the tower if you will."

Lilli gaped at him, suddenly forgetting proper etiquette and staring at him. "Wh-what?"

Matthew sneered. "You shouldn't lie to the prince, you know."

Lilli burst into tears and struggled in the Spaniard's grip, leaving Antonio with no choice but to scoop the girl up into his arms like an infant.

"Nee-san!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. Matthew glared at Antonio's retreating figure and shook his head. "Children and their temper tantrums," he hissed to the cabinet minister.

Francis hesitantly nodded. He could remember quite easily Matthew's constant fits when he was a child, but he didn't dare bring it up. "As you were saying, Your Majesty?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," Matthew began, kicking at a rose. "I was wondering if you could possibly inform the guards that if anyone arrives at the palace doors without written permission that they are to immediately be taken into custody."

Francis nodded. "Because of this morning's interruption?"

"Oui," Matthew said absentmindedly. _I wonder if I'd be met without protest if I questioned going to that one kingdom that Alfred went to…_

Francis looked everywhere but at the Prince as he waited for him to speak. He wouldn't dare speak without being spoken to, not after seeing Matthew so ruthlessly sentence the young gardener to prison (and possibly death, now that he thought about it.)

"Oh, Francis?" Matthew finally asked.

"Oui?"

"Could I possibly visit the neighboring kingdom? Unattended?"

"I wouldn't think it particularly wise, Your Majest—"

"I wouldn't want to lose anymore servants, you know," Matthew said suddenly, an innocent look on his face as he looked up at the sky.

"I'll begin preparations, Your Majesty." And with that, Francis bowed.

_Maybe then I'll find out why Alfred wants so much to go there monthly…_

Alfred smiled lightly as the woman threw her arms around him. "Oh, Alfred! It's been forever, my son!" she wailed, clutching him tightly despite her weak appearance.

"Please let go, Mother. And it has only been two months."

"And how horrible those two months have been!" she sobbed.

While she sounded and appeared to be crying pathetically, Alfred knew his mother was only faking.

"Mother, I brought you supplies."

She squeaked and quickly pulled away. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

"In length."

She grinned much similar to her older son (Matthew.)

As she took the food he brought her and packed it away in the cabinets, she sighed. "Oh, how I miss you when you're gone. I hear word of another execution, this time the chef, this time the guard, and I always wonder if somehow word changed, and really it was Matthew's—"

Alfred winced as he heard her say the name so bluntly. But he reminded himself that he was in another kingdom, and thus using the name lightly was allowed. "—hand servant, and I work myself into a panic."

"You should know better. Prince Matthew wouldn't dare kill me. He knows I'm the only one with the patience for him."

She nodded, then sighed and let her hands fall to her sides. "You know, I heard that Lord Arthur is looking for a new servant since his other one somehow managed to anger Matthew while in _that kingdom_."

Alfred frowned. "I'd much rather prefer to stay with His Majest—"

"You already have a week's worth of clothing packed," she continued as if he hadn't spoken, "and I could go to the market and buy you some more. And you brought me a bag of gold—I noticed—and we could last off of that until you were approved."`

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Will you ever tell me why you were exiled?"

Her eyes began to stare at—no, _through_—the wall behind him. "Hmm, I do suppose you are old enough…"

She then focused on him. "You know how Matthew and you are twins?"

Alfred flinched. Another taboo subject. "Yes."

"And how Matthew is older than you by just a minute?"

Alfred relaxed, at least by a little. Matthew was fine with people bringing up his similarity in age. "Yes."

"Your father wasn't happy to have twins. He only wanted one son, and two daughters, so that he would be able to wade through suitors' gifts. He didn't want any children at all, but he needed an heir and wanted the profits of a daughter old enough to wed. And so he exiled me because of 'treason.' He hid the fact that you two were twins. And you know the rest."

He did. He remembered being raised by Francis even though he was only around fifteen when Alfred was born, and how when Alfred turned ten he began to serve Matthew. And on Matthew's thirteenth birthday, he poisoned their father and gained the throne.

A loud trumpet was blown, and Alfred's mother gasped. "That means that Lord Arthur is about to speak…!" She quickly wiped her hands on her apron, grabbed her son's arm, and dragged him outside.

Everyone crowded around _him_, but left a small bubble of space about twenty feet in diameter.

Alfred's mother had the smarts to dash to the near edge of that bubble and gestured with her head each person.

"The huge one is Lord Arthur's personal advisor, Ivan. He's some foreigner who showed up about five years ago." His mother whispered.

Alfred stared. Ivan was extremely tall, and underneath his dark green coat was at least four inches of muscle.

"And the other one, the blonde with bushy eyebrows and green hat, is Lord Arthur," she said even quieter, and Alfred had to strain his ears to hear her.

He laid eyes on Arthur and his heart quickened its pace. Alfred didn't look once at the fancy clothes the man wore, nor did he notice his small stature. He stared at Arthur's emerald irises, feeling as if he was going to fall into their clear depths.

_Maybe I might take a shot at that hand servant position…_

Matthew hid his face in his hood and listened attentively to what his neighbor, Arthur, had to say. He supposed he had plenty of time to look for Alfred later.

Arthur cleared his throat, and the entire town square filled with silence. "I'm afraid I have some bad news in relation to our neighbor, Prince Matthew's, kingdom."

Matthew raised an eyebrow and strained his ears. He was, after all, hiding in the shadows, away from everyone's sight.

"I believe all of you remember that about two months ago, Lilli Zwingli was accepted as Palace Gardener for Prince Matthew. Two days ago, she was sentenced to death."

There was a loud gasp from the audience, and Matthew smirked. He didn't care if she had only been, what, twelve? She had lied to him, and had deserved her death.

There was a loud pained wail, and Matthew's eyebrow twitched. He hadn't realized that Lilli's older brother lived in this kingdom.

_Oh well_.

Someone (that wasn't Vash, at least) declared that war should be called. Arthur shook his head. "While I would very, _very_ much prefer to do that, we are not fully prepared for a war with our neighbor." As he began to rattle of reasons why such a thing would be insufficient, Matthew's eyes wandered around the audience. Maybe, just maybe, Alfred would be there, listening—

Ah, there he was! Matthew was slightly peeved that the man hadn't stood up for him, but Matthew could forgive Alfred this time. (He'd only get a small thump on the head with a textbook for it, of course, but that would heal quickly.)

Matthew was taken aback as he saw the look on his brother's face.

It was filled with emotions Matthew rarely saw in people close to him. _Joy. Agreement. _And, and, _adoration_.

Matthew felt a pang in his heart, and his hand drifted to his chest. _What the hell had _that _been_?

Matthew pouted and walked away, in the direction of his kingdom.

Well. If his Alfred was so pleased with the ersatz king, then he would leave him to his ogling.

When Matthew returned to his bedchambers, he tossed off the cloak and began pacing, watching his feet as he moved.

_Well_. Alfred had proved less loyal than Matthew had previously thought. Matthew knew he wouldn't, _couldn't _bring himself to execute, or even exile, his favorite servant. Not only was he faithful and calm, but he was also his own brother.

Sure, Matthew had it in his heart to kill his own father, but the man had always been rude to him, and had exiled Matthew and Alfred's mother. And Alfred was all Matthew had left…

Matthew felt another twinge of pain as he remembered Alfred's face. Was it possible that Alfred was head over heels for Arthu—

_No!_ A voice in Matthew's head howled. There was no way, it was impossible, for his Alfred to be in love with Arthur. One, Arthur wasn't Matthew. Two, he was another man. Three, Alfred only just met him. Four, they lived much too far away from each other. And reason five? Because Matthew prohibited it. He knew that if he told Alfred that he was banned from seeing the lord that he would obey.

Matthews rhythm faltered as the name rolled in his mind.

_Arthur._

It was _his _entire fault! Of course, why else would Alfred be so smitten? Arthur had probably used some sort of sorcery or witchcraft and cast a spell over the city, saying that anyone loyal to Matthew would switch sides.

And how do you reverse a curse? You kill the witch.

Matthew called the name loudly, but with less fierceness than usual.

"Oui, Your Majesty?" Francis asked, stepping into the room.

"…Destroy the country of green," Matthew whispered, the words flowing smoothly out of his mouth. Francis cocked his head, not hearing the Prince. He stepped closer.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty. Could you possibly repeat—"

Matthew stepped to his bedside table and opened the top drawer. There it gleamed, a small blade. Its metal had been tapered to a sharp edge, and the hilt was rusted and worn from age.

He turned and tossed it to his cabinet minister, who clumsily caught it by the hilt. "I want you to kill our _lovely _neighbor, Lord Arthur."

Francis' eyes flickered, a look of defiance flashing through them. But he quickly suppressed it. _You can do this one last act of sin, and then you will run away from this demon_, Francis' mind informed him. He nodded, half to himself and half to the Prince.

"Oui, sir." He turned on his heel and left, tucking the knife into his belt.

As Matthew readied himself for bed, he couldn't help but think,

_Maybe this will teach Alfred to stay loyal to his family…_

Alfred frowned as he stepped foot in the palace. He couldn't explain it, but he felt like something was terribly, absolutely wrong, and that it was his entire fault.

He slowly strode through the halls, looking for a familiar face. But no one was to be found.

He stopped in front of the set of doors, the ones that led to the throne room.

_Matthew's favorite room…_

He gingerly slid them open and peeked inside.

Alfred felt a wave of relief as he saw his sibling, boredly swatting at a fly.

He lounged in the throne, not at all sitting in it properly. He sat with his lower back leaning against one armrest and his legs hanging over the side of the other. His crown (for Alfred would always know it as Matthew's and no one else's) lay lopsidedly on his head, tilting slightly where it came close to shielding his eye from Alfred's gaze.

Matthew refrained from shivering as he realized someone was looking at him, and he turned his head to look at the door. He grinned broadly as he saw his brother, who immediately glanced away, as if he had never been looking.

It was in that moment that he knew Arthur had been slayed—why else would his brother have returned so abnormally? Usually he would waltz right into the room, as if he had never been gone, and would report to Matthew that it was time for tea.

Matthew gestured for Alfred to step forward. "Come now, kneel down!" he called.

Alfred stepped until he was at his brother's feet, crouched onto one knee, and bowed his head.

Matthew gestured upward, formalities over. (Matthew couldn't explain why, but he had felt inclined to see the show of loyalty.) "Now, how was your trip, Alfred?"

"It was as average as always, Your Majesty. My mother inclined me to stay, but I faithfully turned her down. I could not leave my master without permission, Your Majesty." Alfred smiled slightly.

Matthew grinned wider. Somehow, the words just backed up the notion that his neighbor was no more.

"Oh? Next time you visit our neighboring kingdom," _if it still exists because some fool failed to obey my orders, _"please tell your mother I send my best wishes." _If she's still alive_.

Matthew frowned. He had completely forgotten that his mother would indeed be killed in the process of the destruction of the kingdom. He shrugged it off. If he could live without a father who hated him, he most certainly could live conveniently without a mother he didn't know.

Alfred was shocked by the words, but showed no sign. "I will, Your Majesty."

Matthew hmmed, quite unsure of what he wanted his brother to do to quench this ennui of his. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, he was (so rudely) interrupted by someone clearing their throat from the doorway.

The twins turned their heads to see that Francis stood in the doorway, one hand in his pocket and the other behind his back.

Matthew paused. He would, on normal occasion, berate the man for interrupting when he was about to speak, but he knew there was only one reason the man would be there.

Matthew's lips spread into an ever-familiar grin. _So I was correct. (Of course I never doubted it since I am _always _correct~_)

"Oui, Francis?" Matthew asked sweetly.

Alfred blinked in surprise. His brother never let a reason to yell go by.

"I have what you asked for, Your Majesty," Francis timidly said. He was still unnerved by the job he had been sent on, and he was even more unsettled by the reaction he was most likely to see when he presented what the Prince had requested.

"Ah, so I assume you completed the task without problem?" Matthew asked. Oh how sweeter this moment would be since his Alfred would be here to see it!

"Oui," Francis stated hesitantly as he stepped up to the Prince. "I only needed a small portion of the Royal Guard's mass to destroy the entire kingdom."

Alfred's eyes widened. Oh no. They couldn't be talking about—

"Oh? And do I get any sign of proof, Francis?" Matthew questioned greedily. He wanted to see Alfred's reaction _so _much.

Francis paused, then slowly pulled a small, elegant box out of his pocket. He handed it to Matthew, and held both hands behind his back. "Now that those matters are taken care of, may I ever be excused, Your Majesty?"

Matthew trained his eyes on the box, never looking away, and quickly waved Francis away as he tinkered with it, trying to figure out how to open it.

Francis scurried out of the room at a pace slightly slower than running. He needed to be out of there, and fast, because he knew that Alfred's response would not be in the least bit—

Matthew made a noise of ecstacy as the top clicked open. He held it out ever so slightly, so that he knew Alfred could see.

Inside the box, in a plush lining of velvet, was an eyeball.

Alfred felt bile rise in his throat as he recognized the deep olive irises.

No. _NO! _he screamed in his head.

Matthew smiled coyly as he gauged his brother's response. He took the eye in his fingers and, with one last glance at his twin, Matthew popped it into his mouth and chewed, swallowing it semi-whole.

Francis wasn't fast enough. He still heard the stomach-churning sound of Alfred emptying his stomach onto the throne room floor.

_Maybe now Alfred will see that his brother is truly insane…_

Betty trembled as she sat. Ivan took off his coat and gingerly wrapped it around her.

No matter how close she sat to the flames, her skin was met with an icy chill.

Only a few hours after her son, Alfred, had left the kingdom, they had been ambushed by Matthew's Royal Guard.

Many lives were lost. Homes were reduced to ash, innocent people were killed—and while no one blamed her, Betty knew it was her eldest son's doing.

_And she had no idea wheter her youngest had survived the trip home_.

She had long since cried her eyes out. While her world was now filled with suffering, she couldn't help but feel drained of the energy to cry.

Ivan stood protectively by her side. She had been the one to be filled with the most despair, and he couldn't help but feel the need to protect her. (Even though he rarely ever felt any emotion for _anyone_.)

She looked at the faces around her. Out of all the survivors from the horrible attack, she was in the top four of most hurt.

Number one would be Ivan. Not only had he lost his sisters, two of the few people who trusted him, but he hadn't even been able to save Arthur.

Number two would be Vash, since he had already lost his sister but now the rest of his family. And everyone knew that as soon as the depression passed over, he would be filled with an angry rage and would hurt anyone who dared try to console him.

Number three was herself. She couldn't help but feel at fault, since it was her son who had caused such grief. She knew that it was wrong, but she hated her son. She _hated _him. She wished with all her heart that he had never been born.

And last was Arthur. He was stuck in a state of absolute confusion, with hints of pain and desperation. He couldn't think of a single reason that he could be hated so fiercely by Matthew. But apparently it was enough for him to send his cabinet minister to attack him. After banging his head around, Francis stabbed his eye out. And then _apologized_. The bloody fucker had some nerve, Arthur had to give him that. In Francis' panicked attempt to explain the entire situation, Arthur blacked out.

He could practically feel his people's pain. He could count on one hand how many average citizens had survived.

However, it would take more than twenty people's hands and _toes _to count the casualties. He hadn't wanted to let Ivan bandage his head (to conceal the grotesque picture that was his eye) as they rode in a wagon (driven by Betty) to gather up the survivors.

He clenched and unclenched his knuckles as he looked at them all. Slowly, he stood up.

Ivan immediately directed his attention to Arthur, and he strode towards the weakened man. "Nyet…!"

Arthur batted his hand away. "I can manage, thank you."

Ivan sucked in a deep breath, but nodded slowly.

He directed his attention to the small group around him. "We all know that Matthew, the prince and ruler of the neighboring kingdom, is to blame."

Vash let out another choking sob, and Betty's motherly instincts kicked in as she crawled towards him and wrapped her arms around him.

"I will not lie to you all and tell you that I will take him down."

Betty whispered, "that would be called a miracle" and began to gently sway the crying wreck of a teenager in her arms.

"But I do, however—" he stopped speaking as he winced and clutched his throbbing head. After his body naturally numbed the paining area, he began again. "I do have a plan to try my very best."

Ivan narrowed his eyes. Arthur was in no state to try some far-fetched attempt to attack the—

"It was well known that even the people in his own kingdom hate Matthew. Even his cabinet minister holds loath for the boy. If we can somehow rile an army just barely big enough to outnumber the royal guard, we can easily bring his reign to an end." He paused and swatted at a loose strand of bandage that hung in front his good eye. "Half of the guards would immediately give up—who else wouldn't if such a mass protest were to be formed? All of the servants would flee, and all we'd have to do is search the castle until we found the bloody _prince_." He spat the last word out.

Betty blinked. She knew that "all" wouldn't exactly fittingly describe the servants that would flee. She knew deep in her heart that Alfred wouldn't leave his brother.

"How are we to know that Matthew wouldn't flee as well?" Ivan asked.

Arthur opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Betty. "Because he is too stubborn."

Everyone stared at her. How could she possibly know this for a fact, when word of Matthew rarely reached the town?

"And how are we to know this?" Arthur asked, although he had a pretty good idea. He had, after all, met Betty's other son a few times over the last week, first and foremost because of the boy's interest in being his servant, and secondly because he was rather fond of him.

"My…my youngest son is Matthew's personal servant—" now, Arthur hadn't known _that _little fact, "and he brings me detailed descriptions of Matthew's behavior."

Arthur nodded. "So now we have someone in the inside who most certainly will—" 

"Alfred isn't going to leave."

Everyone let out a breath. So that was why she was beating herself down so much. She had an evil son who was the cause of all their problems, and her other, more sane son was too loyal to his family to see the full image that was his brother's cruelty.

"He would have to be..." She drew a shaky breath and started over. "He would have to not exist to not protect his brother."

"Are you absolutely sure?" a man, a Royal Guard that had cut roughly in the leg and left to die by the other soldiers, asked. "Maybe this entire incident has changed his mind…"

Betty shook her head. "He tells me, almost every single visit, that he wishes people would stop hating his brother so much. Is that proof enough of his loyalty?"

Arthur shook his head. This would complicate things.

"Well, everyone, I suggest you all get some sleep. Tomorrow, despite the obstacles, we are going to try and bring Matthew down."

As the silence slowly filled the area, Betty couldn't help but think, while she absentmindedly messed with Vash's hair.

_Maybe Alfred will see the error in his loyalties…_

Matthew was growing more and more silent as the days passed.

Alfred hoped in his heart that he was having some sort of epiphany. Maybe the fact that he had only one servant left and the castle was surrounded by angry commoners was finally showing Matthew the error of his ways.

Matthew heard the church bell chime, and turned to Alfred. "Oh, it's time for snack."

Alfred slowly nodded. He knew that the people were going to attack any day now, and he didn't dare want to leave his brother's side.

He turned to Matthew. "If you need any help, simply yell."

Matthew rolled his eyes and shooed the man away. "I'm hungry. And this time, make something that tastes good!"

Alfred sighed and hesitantly left the room.

Matthew sighed in relief as soon as he couldn't hear his brother's footsteps anymore. Matthew somehow felt it in the pit of his stomach that they would attack today, and around this time. It was the very least he could do for his brother to get him out of the way of the fighting.

Matthew felt a weird happiness fill him. If helping others would make him feel like this, he doesn't want to do it anymore.

Sure enough, around the time that Alfred would be in the kitchen (the farthest room from the throne room), an extremely large group of people filled into the room. He grinned cheerfully at them. "I've been expecting your attack. What ever took you so long?"

His grin faltered as he saw Arthur. He ground his teeth. So Francis had betrayed him after all. He had expected that something like that would happen.

When several swords were pointed at his neck, a woman stepped forward and began tying his hands behind his back.

Matthew's eyes widened as he realized she was his mother. "If it isn't the mother who abandoned her sons."

She glared at him and, after tying the knot tightly slapped him across the face.

He bared his teeth at her. "You insolent person!"

"Maybe that will teach you to be so rude," she hissed.

"Once upon a time, there was a treacherous kingdom. And reigning at the top was a prince of nineteen," Matthew whispered to himself.

As the church tower chimed two-thirty, Matthew ground his teeth. He had only thirty minutes left until his execution, and he could feel that his head was about to brim over with insanity.

Just before the chimes stopped, a cloaked figure slid into the prison cell. Matthew dimly wondered if it was real or just his mind playing tricks on him.

_Maybe I was insane all along…_

Everyone happily cheered when they saw the Prince being lead to his death. Yet he didn't once look at the populace.

When he was finally situated in the guillotine, Arthur asked loudly if Matthew had anything to say.

The Prince pursed his lips and, hearing the church chimes begin to strike the time (Three o'clock) he grinned, eyes resting on the cloaked figure near the back of the crowd.

"Oh, it's time for snack."

_The end._

**This was SOOOOOO fun to write! I swear!**

**Oh, Jesus. I was so excited and so disgusted when I got the idea for the eyeball scene. *shudders* I can't believe I actually wrote it. But there is definitely a comedic reason for that! (And not in a gruesome way). *nods* It'll just be shown in the last chapter.**

**Yeah…Did anyone notice that before each line break (except the very last one) there was something along the lines of "maybe_"? All of them were thoughts, except for the one where Betty is tying Mattie up.**

**Oh! All of you might be wondering why Betty is named as such. *grins* I generally think of Betty Crocker when thinking of pancakes. *laughs* And if I were to name their father (which might be used in the next three chapters) I would name him either Ronald (Ronald McDonald) or Sanders. (Colonel Sanders from KFC.) But I'm most likely going to stick with The King. (Burger King) XDDD**

**Oh. My. Jesus. On a cracker. Have you all **_**seen **_**the length of this thing? It's 5,802 words long! :O**

**Well, hope you enjoyed reading this mess~ (I recommend watching the video for Daughter of Evil, preferably with subtitles. My translation was slightly off, which is why the story may seem slightly different.) Review, because it will make me more determined to write the next chapter!**

**P.S. Is it shocking that this chapter only took me three days to write? _**


	2. Aku no Meshitsukai

**Oh lord. I just, literally **_**just **_**finished Aku no Musume and already I want to work on this little…*growls***

**Characters are the same as previous. This chapter will be slightly shorter (maybe) and the line break thingy will definitely be different than "maybe _" ^^ Haha if you guys didn't notice in the video (if you even watched it) for Servant of Evil, the lyrics are something similar to "When I went to a neighboring kingdom, in town I caught sight of a girl (LOL) of green. From that kind voice and smiling eyes, I fell in love at first sight." XD So, that's why I choose Arthur for Miku. Because of his eyes. Did anyone else notice that I also had Ivan and Arthur dress in green in last chapter? XD**

**All of you might be wondering why I am writing in 3****rd**** POV? Well, technically, I'd let the song dictate it (because Daughter of Evil was 3****rd****) but it'd be kind of unfair, since both of Len's songs are in 1****st**** but only Message of Regret is in 1****st****. So I thought (I know! I can write Daughter/Servant of Evil in 3****rd****, and then Re_Birthday and Message of Regret in 1****st****! Yeah!)**

**So. That's my logic. There are many, many reasons I have the characters as they are. Did you notice that Mattie grins more while Alfred smiles timidly? And Mattie gets mad when interrupted while Alfred is used to it? These (and several more) and their reasoning are revealed in the last chapter~**

**Enjoy! R&R! I work incredibly hard on these stories, so please give me some reason to! *chuckles* (Oh, P.S., this chapter is the reason the story is under the "Romance" genre. *wiggles eyebrows***

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_**Aku no Meshitsukai/Servant of Evil

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_You are a prince and I am a servant. Destiny separated pitiful twins. If it's for the sake of protecting you, I will become evil, too._

Alfred held back from laughing. What in the world had brought such depressing thoughts into his head?

* * *

He was shocked to see his brother so…_not _cruel. In fact, he would bet every visit to his mother that Francis was just as shocked, if not moreso.

Matthew was chattering about everything that came into his mind, not really caring if Alfred or Francis were actually listening.

Francis shared a look with Alfred, as if to ask "What did you do to him, and how can I ever thank you?"

Alfred shook his head. He didn't know if it had been his doing or not, but he did not consciously change Matthew.

Alfred remembered the fairy tale his mother had told him when he visited her for the first time.

"_Beyond expectations, two boys were born. They were blessed by the church bells, which rang just for them. But for the convenience of a selfish king, their destiny was split in two._"

At the time, Alfred hadn't understood the words. But when he looked back on it now, he realized she was telling of his birth.

Matthew and Alfred had been born, a shock to their father. He only wanted _one _son, and was enraged that he now had two. He exiled his wife, they babies' mother, and foisted the youngest one onto the cabinet minister-in-training to raise. While Francis was only about fifteen when given the sudden responsibility, he quickly went to training the child for servitude to royalty. When the twins turned ten, Alfred was sworn to serve Matthew.

And when Matthew turned thirteen, on the night that he was claimed heir to the throne, he murdered his father and gained the throne for himself.

Alfred gazed as his brother, who looked so happy and content.

_Even if all the world became your enemy, I will still protect you, so please stay smiling._

Alfred shook his head. Where _did _such thoughts come from?

* * *

Francis flagged the servant down as he gingerly carried a tray from the kitchen. "Ah, Alfred!"

Alfred jumped and fumbled with the tray to keep it steady. He turned his head to the man. "Yes, Francis?

Francis walked up to him and held out an envelope. "You have another letter."

Alfred rolled his eyes as he accepted it.. "Mothers," he chuckled, putting the letter in his pocket. Francis snickered.

"Isn't it around the time that you usually visit her?" Francis asked as they began walking to the throne room.

Alfred's eyes widened. "I suppose it is."

Francis patted his back. "Good luck asking permission to visit her, then." Francis turned his heel and walked back to wherever-it-was-he-came-from.

Alfred sighed and opened the door. "Time for snack, Your Majesty," he called, walking up to the throne.

Matthew eagerly looked at the tray. Until he saw the food. He wrinkled his nose. "Pancakes?"

Alfred nodded. "If you don't want to eat them, I could bring you something else—"

Matthew shook his head. "I can manage for now."

Alfred never understood his brother's distaste for the food. Personally, Alfred thought they were rather good.

He smiled as he thought of the phrase "different strokes for different folks."

As Matthew chewed the food with obvious dislike, he eyed the parchment peeking out of his brother's parchment. He swallowed before speaking.

"What's that, Alfred?"

Alfred looked where his brother's eyes were at and saw the envelope. "Oh, it's just a letter from my mother."

Matthew always hated it when Alfred said "my mother," as if she was only his. However, the subject was rather forbidden, so he didn't bring it up. "It's around the time you usually visit her, isn't it?"

Alfred slowly nodded and opened his mouth to speak.

But was interrupted by his brother. As usual. "And you haven't started preparing?"

Alfred blinked. "I usually wait until I have permission to."

Matthew waved his hand. "Then permission granted."

Alfred smiled and bowed. "Thank you, Your Majesty," he called as he left the room.

"AND QUIT TACKING ON THE TITLE!"

Alfred smiled as he left the room.

* * *

Matthew boredly wandered the castle, looking for something to do.

"Ah, Your Majesty!" Francis gasped when he saw Matthew in the garden, surprised by his lack of escort.

Matthew looked up. He had been staring at the roses with loath. "Oui, Francis?"

"It should be said that it is extremely dangerous for you to be wandering around unattended," Francis said with worry, looking at for Antonio for support.

The guard shrugged. He rarely talked, so no one was surprised.

Matthew shrugged. "Then why don't you two walk with me?"

Antonio and Francis nodded and fell into step behind the Prince.

They attentively watched him as he stared at each plant, his like or dislike for them obvious in his eyes. Sooner or later, they were back at the roses, which he stared at angrily.

He switched his attention from the flowers to the gardener as she appeared from behind a clutter of sunflowers.

_Time to make someone pay,_

Matthew hissed in his mind.

* * *

Alfred turned to his mother in shock. "Why do people dislike Prince Matthew so much?" he asked as soon as the clutter of people dissolved. She noticed that he watched Lord Arthur, who was talking to Ivan, out of the corner of his eye.

She sighed. "Because of all the horrible things he's done, Alfred," she stated sadly.

"But can't they just forgive and forget?"

She shook her head. "For all that he's done, only a brother could forgive him."

Alfred winced at the mention of the two's relation.

While he was distracted. Betty grabbed him by the elbow and tugged him towards Lord Arthur.

As soon as he realized what was happen, he quickly twisted in hew grip. "Mother!"

"Lord Arthur, are you still looking for a hand servant?" she asked as they arrived in front of the man.

Arthur blinked and looked first at Betty (who he knew because she was the former wife of the late king in the neighboring country) and then at the man beside her.

He stared at the man in slight shock. "Is this—" he began.

She quickly shook her head. "No, no, this is my younger son, Alfred." Arthur nodded and looked at him closer.

So he was finally getting to meet the man that Betty was so proud of.

_You do have to admit he's rather handsome—_

Arthur shook the thought from his head. He had most definitely not thought that.

Alfred looked everywhere but at Arthur, staring at Ivan in shock. "You're really tall."

Ivan snorted. "You're really blunt, da."

"Da?"

"Da."

"Does 'da' mean yes?"

"Da."

Alfred sighed in frustration. This was going nowhere.

Arthur cleared his throat and bowed to Alfred. "I have heard only good things about you from your mother."

Alfred blushed but returned the bow.

Ivan studied the boy closely. Had he really just blushed?

When the formalities ceased, Alfred turned to his mother. "You talk about me when I'm gone?"

Arthur watched, a smirk growing on his face.

"Well, darling, if you were a mother—"

"WHAT?"

"—and were proud of your son, of course you would talk about them often!'

Alfred facepalmed. "You've only known me for six years and you're acting all motherly!"

Betty pouted. "Technically, only about a year and twenty weeks."

Alfred stared at her. "You actually took the time to figure it out?"

"Actually, I did it in my head just now."

Alfred rolled his eyes.

Arthur snickered. "While this _warm family moment _has truly touched my heart, I believe we were discussing something…more important?"

Ivan glanced at Arthur, who was faintly blushing. _Not him, too!_

Alfred pouted. "I already have job, Mother. _In another kingdom_, if you recall."

Ivan noticed Arthur looked slightly disappointed. "Hm."

"Stop working for _him_, then, and work here! It's so much better in this kingdom, you know, little to no executions and rare exiles, and my house has plenty of room for you, and—"

Alfred covered his ears. "I've heard it all before, Mother."

She pouted and crossed her arms.

Arthur cleared his throat.

"How would you two like to eat lunch with Ivan and me?"

* * *

Matthew fumed as he began the trek home. Never once in his life had he been so angry at his brother.

There had to be some law that would give Matthew an excuse to exile his brother.

_Treason? _That could work. Alfred had, after all, proven disloyalty to the kingdom.

Matthew sighed. He could never be mad at his brother too long, let alone exile him from the kingdom.

Matthew wouldn't be able to find a better servant, after all.

* * *

Both Arthur and Alfred were in a horrible mood as they walked idly around the kingdom. Somehow, they had convinced Ivan that Arthur wouldn't be harmed if Ivan took a small one-day vacation.

And so, they were completely unattended.

"Do you really have to leave tonight?" Arthur finally asked in a quiet voice.

Alfred nodded his head, staring at his feet. "I only had leave for a week."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Who exactly do you work for who is so cruel as to let you visit your mother only one week out of the bloody month?"

Alfred was quiet for a few moments. He wouldn't dare tell Arthur that he worked for the man that Arthur so passionately hated. "It's actually quite generous of him, really, if you take into account how they generally are…"

Arthur stared up at the sky. "Hm." He then turned to Alfred. "Would you like to eat dinner at my home?

Alfred shrugged his consent. "Sure."

* * *

Francis and ten to fifteen (he hadn't bothered to count) soldiers from the Royal Guard were camped in the forest on the outskirts of the kingdom. They were patiently waiting for the lookout at the city gate to inform them that Alfred had left the city.

Francis massaged his temples. He had no idea why he still listened to Matthew's orders.

If the soldiers hadn't been there, Francis would've token the opportunity to flee to the kingdom ruled by Arthur.

He thought desperately for an excuse to not kill Arthur.

He, of course, thought of simply following the phrase "let's not and say we did" but Matthew had asked for proof. And not only did he ask for proof, but he had declared he wouldn't settle for anything like a clump of hair or bloody shirt, _no_, that would be too easy.

Matthew had asked for an organ. Francis had thought of simply taking a page from Snow White's book and presenting Matthew an animal's heart and saying it was Arthur's. But Matthew was rather fond of killing things—he would know the difference immediately.

Francis sighed. So now he was stuck killing a man who quite possibly didn't deserve it, but he also had to bloody his hands and steal his heart, or brain, or eye—

He blinked. People could survive without eyes (it just happened to be a rare occurrence).

Slowly a plan began to form in his head.

* * *

Alfred hadn't known how it happened. But somehow, Arthur was drunk and rambling and _extremely good-looking._

He had already admitted it to himself. He was indeed in love with the man. But said man was his brother's enemy.

"Oi, git, get me another bottle of beer!" Arthur slurred. Alfred smiled and stood up.

Over the past week, he had been in and out of Arthur's house so often, he knew it almost as well as the back of his hand. (Don't get any naughty thoughts—Arthur was being a gentleman and asking his friend over for lunch every day.)

Alfred returned a few moments later, bottle in hand. Arthur reached forward to take the bottle out of his hand but ended up stumbling forward on top of him.

Alfred blinked in shock, a ruby blush spreading across his face. Arthur's nose was mere centimeters from his one.

Arthur blinked, obviously shocked. He stared into Alfred's eyes. "Git," he whispered.

"Old man," Alfred replied quietly.

Arthur leaned forward and pressed his lips against Alfred's.

* * *

Matthew was dimly confused as he saw his brother wandering around so helplessly.

"What's wrong, Alfred?" Matthew would ask. Alfred would simply shake his head and produce a weak smile. "Nothing at all, Your Majesty."

Matthew sighed and sat idly on his throne. Never before had the crown's weight felt so heavy on Matthew's head.

Alfred stepped into the room and pathetically attempted to smile. "It's time for snack, Your Majesty."

Matthew shrugged, staring above his brother's head. "What's for snack?"

"Brioche," Alfred said, his smile slowly growing real.

Matthew sniggered, and Alfred couldn't help but feel his adoration for his brother renew in strength.

* * *

Alfred barely registered his brother's off gaze at him as he slid into the cell.

He slid the keys out of his cloak pocket and began working on the chains.

Matthew blinked as he caught sight of blond hair underneath the hood. "Al-Alfred?"

Alfred made a shushing sound as he undid the last shackle. Matthew slowly stood up and rubbed at his wrists. "Why did you do that?"

Alfred shook his head and began to undress. "Here, change into my clothes." He tossed the topmost shirt, breeches, and the cloak at his brother.

Matthew gaped. "But then they will execute you instead of—"

Alfred shook his head. "Please do this and escape immediately, Matthew."

Matthew slowly took off his clothes and handed them to Alfred, then slid his brother's clothes on.

"Alfred, what if this doesn't work? You don't look anything like me—" Alfred took the tie out of his brother's hair and pulled his hair up.

"It's alright, we're twins after all. Surely no one will realize."

Matthew had to admit, he got that feeling in his stomach like he was looking in a mirror. "But you're innocent. I can't allow you to do this!"

Alfred set his jaw and spoke in his best imitation of Matthew's voice. "I am a Prince, and you are a fugitive. Destiny sadly separated two twins. If they say you are evil, Matthew, well. I have the same blood flowing through." Alfred began chaining himself up as best as he could.

Matthew felt his eyes well up with tears but he slowly nodded. He fled from the cell just as the church bells chimed three-fourty-five.

* * *

Alfred didn't dare look at the people of the kingdom. Surely they would recognize him if they saw his blue (and not purple, like Matthew's) eyes. As he was led to the guillotine, he began mentally telling himself a fairy tale.

_Once upon a time, there was a treacherous kingdom. And reigning at the top was my very cute brother._

_Even as the world turned against you, I still protected you. So please be somewhere faraway and smile again._

_I was a servant, and you were a Prince. Destiny pitifully separated twins. Since it's for the sake of you, I have become evil._

Arthur asked if Alfred had anything to say.

Instead of looking at the people he wanted to (Arthur, his mother, Francis), he located his brother in the audience. Alfred was displeased that his brother was crying.

Alfred kept his eyes on his brother and, when the last bell chimed, spoke.

"Oh, it's time for tea."

Alfred died looking at his brother, his last thoughts directed towards Matthew.

_If we could be reborn, I want to be with you again.

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_The end.

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**I don't know what it is. I think it's the font, but "the end" looks so pretty but tragic. Alright, here's everyone's homework assignment! Open a new word document. With 12 pt. Times New Roman font, type "The end." in italics.**

**DOESN'T IT LOOK SO SAD? *Sniffle***

**Ah, I just now realized that that was the first time I wrote romantic interaction between two Hetalia characters. (Except, of course, Gilbo and Mattie in "Blessing in Disguise" but that doesn't count since it's a one-shot XD)**

**Agh. Enough Aku no Hetalia for today. I'm going to work on Mission Number: Avery, Spy Extraordinaire! Yay! (Especially since I got those messages from PrussianAwesomeness 3)**

**Oh mah jesus. It only took me three hours to write this chapter! And it's 3,112 words long! Woah nelly, that is extremely impressive for me. *nods***

**Just as a note, Message of Regret is next~ 3 **

**Review! Hope you all enjoyed! ^^**

**P.S. The chapters after this one are going to be fairly shorter, since Message of Regret and Re_Birthday's stories don't take place over such a long a time as Daughter of Evil and Servant of Evil. And the last chapter is going to be almost nonexistent in comparison to the first one.**


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